Page 89 of Ruthless God

I shake my head. “And under the rule of Agnes.”

His brows furrow, but I push on.

“Does she even let them out of their rooms? Do they get to go outside? Can they watch TV?”

“Jesus Christ.” A rough exhale. “Yes, they’re allowed to leave their rooms. The only reason they haven’t been out is because you didn’t know about them. Now that you do, things will return to normal.”

But I don’t think they will. Because I’m here now. And I’m not going to let this go.

“They deserve better, Claudius.”

His gaze flickers, something haunted lurking beneath the surface.

“They do,” he agrees.

A look passes between us. For the first time, I feel like I’m really seeing him. The man who ripped me from my life. To protect me. To protect them.

My heart hammers in my chest. I part my lips to speak.

“Sir.” The voice cuts through the air.

I snap my head toward the grave. The men stand at the edge, shovels still in hand, a mound of dirt next to them.

One of them wipes his forehead, looking at Claudius.

“We’ve reached the casket.”

The air turns electric. Claudius doesn’t move. Doesn’t breathe. And neither do I. Because this is it. This is the moment that will decide everything.

Who is in that casket? His brother? Or a ghost?

19

Cecely

I reach out, my fingers brushing against Claudius’ hand.

For a moment, he stiffens, rigid beneath my touch. But then, slowly, his grip tightens around mine in a silent acknowledgment that says more than words ever could.

Across from us, the men wait, their gazes shifting between him and the open grave.

Claudius dips his head. The unspoken go-ahead.

In the distance, movement. A shadow moves swiftly toward us, blocked out by the sun.

“Agnes is coming,” I murmur.

He doesn’t answer. Doesn’t even react. Because right now? I’m not sure he even sees me. His gaze is locked on the dark, yawning hole before us where his brother’s body may or may not be. And in this moment, that’s all that exists for him.

“Sir,” Agnes calls as she reaches us, slightly breathless. “I thought you had work to do?”

Her sharp gaze immediately lands on me, suspicion flickering in her eyes, as if I’m the one who lured him out here. As if I control Claudius’ decisions.

He doesn’t answer.

“Sir?” she presses, her tone firmer now.

Claudius finally speaks, his voice low but resolute. “I need to be out here, Agnes.”

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